


Steve

by lifelongpotterhead



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Character Death, I cried writing this, M/M, Pain, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelongpotterhead/pseuds/lifelongpotterhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve dies in infinity war. Someone has to tell Bucky. <br/>Based on this tumblr post:<br/>http://ivonman.tumblr.com/post/148403622879/what-if-steve-dies-in-infinity-war-while-bucky-is</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve

When Bucky opened his eyes, Sam was standing in front of his open cryo chamber. His eyes were downcast and red, his face lined. His mouth was contorted into a frown. 

“What’s wrong, Sam?” Asked Bucky, his voice cracking from disuse. Sam lifted his head a little, but failed to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“Come on,” he said, helping Bucky out of the chamber, “We need to talk.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, suddenly terrified at what Sam had to say. He had sounded so exhausted and broken. “Sam, what’s wrong. Where’s Steve?”

“T-that’s what I have to talk to you about,” Sam let out a long breath. “Bucky, Steve’s dead.”

Bucky must have misheard Sam. There’s no way that Steve could be dead. His beautiful, strong Steve. He couldn’t be dead, no he couldn’t.

“Wait Steve’s what?” He responded, wanting Sam to stop fucking with him. That’s what he was doing, right? It had to be some joke of Sam’s.

“Steve is dead, Bucky. H-he’s not coming back.” Tears started to drip down Sam’s face while he spoke, and Bucky knew that it wasn’t a joke. Steve was dead.

The realization hit him like a truck. He felt dizzy, and his vision swam with tears. “N-n-no! No! He can’t be dead! Steve! STEVE!”

He sunk to his knees, hands pulling at his hair. He thought he heard screaming. It could have been him. He couldn’t really hear over the ringing in his ears. Steve was dead. Steve was dead and he was never coming back.

Bucky began to choke on his screams. He wheezed around the noise, he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t. Oxygen wouldn’t come and his lungs wouldn’t work and he was dizzy and everything was black around the edges but it didn’t matter because Steve was gone and the one thing he had to live for and he didn’t fucking care if he suffocated on his own screams.

He sobbed so hard that his face began to ache with the pain of it, his still frozen face being warmed by his tears. He had never had the chance to catch his breath after the cryo and now it was gone and he couldn’t breathe. 

He pulled at his hair, hoping to feel something besides his utter despair at Steve’s death. He pulled and pulled until he had ripped huge chunks of hair out, enjoying the distracting burn. It was better than the feeling of drowning in his own tears, suffocating on Steve’s name. His throat was raw; he couldn’t scream anymore. 

He kept mouthing Steve’s name, not wanting to believe he was gone. Steve’s name was the only thing he had left, and he wasn’t going to let go of it.

Steve was the only thing he had lived for. He was the only one who believed that Bucky wasn’t a monster; even Bucky didn’t believe it. Bucky knew he was a monster, and yet Steve had saved him, had risked his life for him, had taken care of him even when he was about to kill him. Steve had held him through the nightmares and kept him warm. He had disarmed him when he had been a threat to everyone. He had made him more human. But now Steve was gone, and Bucky knew he couldn’t live without him. He never had. Steve was the only thing that had let him break through HYDRA’s programming, and without him, Bucky was a killer. A monster with blood on his hands.

Tears kept falling down Bucky’s face, and his sobs wracked his body. It only got worse when he thought of Steve, but he couldn’t stop, god he couldn’t stop.

 

He tried to push himself to his feet, to stop crying dammit, Steve wouldn’t want him to cry this much. But his knees just gave out from under him, his shaky legs failing to support him. He landed hard on his metal shoulder, and he looked at in disgust. It just reminded him of all the times Steve had gently held his left hand and his arm, trying to convince him that it wasn’t horrible. He could still feel the ghosts of all of Steve’s caresses, his gentle hands on the bloodstained metal. Even though the rest of his metal arm wasn’t there anymore, he still remembered how Steve’s hands had felt on his own. 

His body began to shake at the memories of Steve’s touch. He couldn’t go on without him, he just couldn’t. His hand trembled; he began to sob again, but he had no tears left. He curled into a ball, gasping and shaking and letting out painful sobs that made it feel like his lungs were bleeding. 

Bucky suddenly gasped, and his breaths hurt even more. He had never told Steve that he loved him. For all the times that Steve had said he loved Bucky, Bucky had never told him. Steve had died never knowing that Bucky loved him.

Bucky was struck with the realization that he could just end it all. If he killed himself, he had a chance of being with Steve. And even if he couldn’t see Steve, even if Bucky ended up in hell where he deserved to be, he couldn’t spill any more blood.

Bucky finally opened his eyes that were sealed by tears and looked around. The lights were blinding, but he didn’t see Sam anywhere. Maybe he didn’t want to deal with the burden of Bucky sobbing. He looked incredibly upset as well. 

 

This place was effectively a large lab, there had to be something that he could hurt himself with. He somehow managed to stand on his shaky legs, adrenaline coursing through him. This was it. He was finally going to die, something that a monster like him deserves. His mind was oddly calm, his thoughts still focusing on Steve. 

He slowly strolled through the hallway, assessing each room he passed. Finally, he found an empty lab that was somehow unlocked. He walked through the door; it seemed like the scientist had only gone on a short break. 

They happened to leave a scalpel on the table. 

He picked it up, the smooth metal of the blade seemingly calling to him. It felt heavy in his hand. Bucky took a deep breath.

“I love you, Steve,” He whispered. 

He plunged the scalpel into his neck, cutting a hole through his neck. He didn’t feel any pain. Bucky was dead before his body hit the floor.

The scientists would later find his body, his white clothes soaked red, and a slight smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I probably cried as much as you guys. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me.


End file.
